On a recent visit to the veteran's hall

The ranks of our nation's veterans ebb and flow like the tides. World War II vets die at an unstoppable rate. The current war on terror adds daily to the number of our nation's heroes. West Africa, Syria, Somalia, Iraq III and various other locations around the world even some unknown to the public. Missions only mentioned in diaries or over beers.

In five years we will have young veterans who were born after 9/11. In a recent class I asked one of my students how much pain we will have to inflict upon the Islamist enemy to get them to stop. His reply, "more than we are willing to inflict." Thirteen veterans' days since, that September day, now we pause once again to remember our heroes living and dead.

On a recent visit to a veteran's hall in Santa Barbara I had the pleasure of viewing a few dozen plaques of various service members dating all the way back to World War I. If well-versed one is able to follow the career progression by looking at the unit patches, rank, and service medals and photo to determine the story told in the 18 x by 24-inch frame. Many of the veterans had lengthy careers going from the junior ranks to mid career and even all the way up to four-star generals. A Tuskegee airman, a black pilot who helped break the color barrier in our society flying bomber escort duty over Italy, years before someone ran around the bases had a plaque. Bronze and silver star recipients, even one Medal of Honor, lined the walls.

A U.S. President from California, Ronald Regan, was on display, and where was his was plaque? It was tucked neatly into a corner displayed in the exact same manner as his fellow men and women.

A testament to those who serve our nation came from all walks of life and then went back home to live their lives.' It was a small museum testifying to those parents, and daughters, and uncles who had served this nation. It is our responsibility to remember those lives cut short as well as those with wounds mental and physical who walk among us.

As President Lincoln vowed in his second inaugural address "to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow, and his orphan." We must stoop to see, we must ask how can I help you, we put our phones down in order to listen, and give thanks.

The most moving frame contained an old black and white photo of a soldier from the 101st Division (Air Assault). His medals were few, a bronze star, WWII Victory Medal, and a Purple Heart. His rank was that of a private. So what was his story? He was killed on the jump into Normandy. His name forgotten except for those who called him kin, to us as a whole he was just a soldier. Only his actions resonated through his photo and 72 years of our republic

Phil Kiver is an EWU graduate and visiting professor at the University of California at Santa Barbara.